


Homecoming

by WickedGoodBooks



Series: Downhill Ficlets [1]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: :D, Did I mention fluff?, Downhill ficlet, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, at least not a lot of it, plus a lot of fluff, then you have bird house building plot, unless you count bird house building as plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28595394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedGoodBooks/pseuds/WickedGoodBooks
Summary: Downhill family's first fluffy ficlet.The Fraser boys are building a bird house.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Series: Downhill Ficlets [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095380
Comments: 334
Kudos: 284





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ClanDonnachaidh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClanDonnachaidh/gifts).



> awright folks, guess who's back? your favourite Downhill lovebirds!  
> and they have a sweet, fluffy ficlet in tow.
> 
> honestly, I had no intention of returning so soon, but after reading yesterday morning that one of my favourite people (*throws a look at ClanDonnachaidh*) celebrates another year around the sun today, and just having had the idea for this little thing almost simultaneously, I thought I'd give it a try to gift it to her for that special occasion. 
> 
> This first scene is as much as I was able to get done in time. Now, I would usually finish writing the whole thing in one go—there are probably going to be two more scenes that go with this little snippet—but it was my friend's choice to get the first scene TODAY and the rest later.  
> And so it is my pleasure to share this with you all a little ahead of time.  
> [Disclaimer: as this was all done quite hastily and in very little time, title of story and chapter may be subject to change, thanks for understanding]
> 
> Pure, unadulterated Downhill fluff.
> 
> this is for you, QUINE, I hope you'll enjoy :* MWAH

**Homecoming **–** A Downhill Ficlet **– Part I****

Claire’s eyes began to water the moment she stepped out of the car. While snow would not arrive for another few weeks, the Highland air was already vicious, biting and nipping at every inch of exposed skin.

Every cell of her body urged her to haste; to make for that iron-bound doorway as fast as her bundled-up form allowed. But there was something else, something more powerful pulling her gaze in the opposite direction. Once she spied the unmistakable copper cowlicks peeking out from beneath a navy-grey beanie at the other end of the enormous courtyard, all thought of escaping into the firewood-fuelled warmth was forgotten.

Jamie, Viking in spirit and blood, withstood the howling November winds with nothing but a pair of ramshackle jeans and a woollen jumper rolled up above his elbows. Wearing a look of concentration beneath his goggles, he showed off forearms corded with capable muscle as he worked a slab of wood through the disc saw, shaping it to his own design.

Her heart, recognising its mate without difficulty, skipped that familiar first beat; and as it did so, his eyes lifted. Even from a distance, she recognised the same feeling—of fullness, of coming home—shining in those blue depths as they connected with hers.

Claire had crossed the ancestral flagstone halfway before even realising that she was moving. Jamie, too, seemed driven by a force unseen, drawing up the protective goggles, his smile growing wider and more brilliant as he flipped the switch and rounded the saw. 

“Sassenach,” his greeting hung in a soft, warm mist between them as he bent down and pressed his lips to hers.

“Hello, you,” Claire said, nuzzling into the inviting musk of his neck. “What are you doing out here? Aren’t you freezing?”

“Och, it’s jus’ a wee bit o’ wind—doesnae bother me much.” Having witnessed Jamie brave any kind of temperature with little more than his skin and the barest of outer layers even in the deepest of winter, Claire should have been used to that by now. To feel the heat of his body underneath her gloved fingertips, however, was still a more than welcome reminder that he truly was feeling as comfortable as he said, and not just playing the part. “I thought I’d get the wood parts prepared afore taemorrow, sae I willnae bother ye wi’ the noise when ye’re going through the applications fer that radiologist position.”

“Ever the thoughtful one,” she smiled, linking her hands behind his neck.

“Weel,” his eyes crinkled with a boyish smile as his palms slid around her back to their favourite resting place. “Jus’ one o’ the many reasons ye marrit me after all, no?”

Laughing, Claire rose to her tiptoes, accentuating her response with little pecks to his stubbled jaw. “The one and _only_ reason, Fraser.”

“Better one than none at all, _Mrs_ _Fraser_.”

“Touché,” laughter still dancing in her eyes, she slid back down and brushed some sawdust off his shoulder. “So, Operation Bird House is still on for tomorrow, then?”

“Aye, the weans and I are going tae start righ’ after breakfast. I ken ye’re no’ thrilled about it, but—”

Claire cut him off with a raised eyebrow that held no real displeasure, “Can you blame me?”

“No,” he conceded easily, strong fingers kneading her backside and making her wonder how she could have ever felt cold under the blaze of his gaze. “But the chances o’ _that_ happening again are verra slim.”

She looked over her shoulder, taking in the towering, stoned walls she’d come to call home over the past years. “Well, at least the windows here are a bit sturdier than at Drummond Road.”

A smirk playing around his wide mouth, Jamie said, “Aye, Lallybroch has seen its fair share o’ shenanigans o’er the centuries and it’s still standing as strong as the day ‘twas built. But dinnae fash, Sassenach,” he squeezed her hip gently, “I ha’ a plan fer the wee gype. Ellis willnae ha’ much chance tae be anywhere near a hammer if he’s busy wi’ being in charge o’ all the painting and decorating.”

“Not only thoughtful, but clever as well,” Claire replied with only a hint of a tease, fingertips grazing lightly over his cheek. “I really am a lucky woman.”

“If anyone here is lucky, _mo ghràidh_ ,” Jamie took her hands in his, blue eyes not leaving hers as he delicately kissed her wool-covered knuckles, “it’d be me.”

Her breath came a little faster now, dissipating in misty puffs into the dusk-darkening sky. “Just make sure no one gets hurt again.”

“I ha’ nae intention ha’ing ma nose broken again either—"

As if on cue, a chorus of impatient calls sounded from behind her back, “Mamaaaaaa!” “Mam!”

“How do they do that?” Claire whispered out of the corner of her mouth as she threw a little wave at the two boys standing side by side in the wing of the timbered entrance door.

“Do what?”

“Show up every time we talk about them.”

A deep chuckle rose from his chest. “Urchins probably jus’ smelled the food.”

“How did you—”

“Yer hair,” lips tilted upwards, Jamie took a strand of brown curls and ran it through his fingers. “It smells like that Thai place in town—all lime and coriander, wi’ a wee bit o’ white pepper.”

“Frasers,” she threw her head back in laughter, a clear, beautiful sound ascending into the crisp air around them. “Aardvarks, the lot of you.”

“But ye love us.”

Drawing his face down to hers, Claire showed him just how much. Mouths moving in a familiar dance, they lost themselves in the softness of lips and the urgency beneath, until the metallic _thunk_ of a car door being slammed shut broke them apart.

“And if ye love _me_ , Sassenach,” Jamie’s chest heaved with shallow pants, eyes roving over her face with indescribable tenderness, “ye should probably head in and save some curry fer us both. The cubs jus’ took off wi’ the takeout.”

“I do love you,” she brushed her lips once, twice more over his, and turned towards their house with a renewed sense of purpose. “And I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always my gratitude for the people who provide me with their most-valued input (@elizabeth_beauchamp, and newly-welcomed @holdhertightandsayhername)  
> @SassySassenach for that wonderful last minute moodboard :D you are a queen!
> 
> to everyone who missed this little family as much as I did, I hope this was/is a nice revisit.  
> Please join me in wishing @ClanDonnachaidh a very happy birthday!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, well...I have no idea how I could even think for one second that I could finish this whole thing in ONE DAY, but... I did make an honest effort until my dearest quine told me she wanted the first part now and the rest later... :'D  
> I guess later has finally arrived, so I'm happy to share the second part of this wee Downhill flufflet with you. (I just adore this family and it's so hard to stay away from them)

**Homecoming **–** A Downhill Ficlet - Part II**

Claire Fraser counted many joys in her life. Besides finding professional fulfilment in their growing business and friends that could always be counted on, she had a husband she loved more than life itself, a father-in-law that was closer to her than she believed even blood could be, and two darling boys that completed their familial bliss with mischievous giggles and bright-eyed charm.

Watching all the Fraser men work companionably together, however—Brian helping their youngest to sand the edges of the miniature chimney while Jamie supervised William’s hammer strokes—was a particular delight. To see them go about their collective duties, gleeful pride glowing in four different shades of blue at having a hand in building a new home for Lallybroch’s resident robin family, was yet another confirmation of a life rich in love.

“Knock knock,” Claire stepped into the pine-scented atmosphere with a steaming tray of tea and biscuits.

Three red and one silver-streaked black head jerked in her direction, flashing her their most winning smiles—all slightly crooked, all heart-meltingly beautiful in their own way.

“Mama!” Ellis was the first to pipe up, jumping off his grandfather’s lap to wrap himself around her hips.

“Oof, careful, darling,” she cautioned, shifting her cargo carefully to one hand, and smoothing the other over the unruly mop of thick, auburn hair. “Wouldn’t want any of that fine shortbread to go to waste.”

“Here, let me take that off ye,” kissing her in hello, Jamie took the tray and set it down in a spot on the wooden worktop currently not drowning beneath a paraphernalia of tools, paints, and cans of eco-friendly varnish.

“Thank you.”

William followed the passage of the shortbread with his nose, “Did Mrs Crook make the one wi’ oranges again?”

“That’s the one, lovey.”

“Will ye e’er stop calling her that, lad?” Brian teased, greeting Claire with a fatherly nod in her direction. “Ye ken ye dinnae ha’ tae call her _gran_ , but Mrs Crook is a wee bit formal, no? Call her Agnes if ye like.”

“Jus’ feels weird tae do that is all,” he shrugged as he filched a buttery treat from the plate and turned his focus back to his task.

The gesture was so similar to one of Jamie’s that Claire couldn’t help but smile at the exchange. Ever since William’s voice had begun to deepen, the physical similarities between father and son had grown even more pronounced. Although Willie was still a good way off from reaching Jamie’s impressive height or width of shoulder, the man he would eventually become already shone through the peachiness of childhood clinging to his cheeks and bones.

The same promise of strength in body and kindness of heart lingered in a set of heterochromatic eyes—one tropical blue, the other whisky-gold—calling her attention back down to hip-level with an excited wave of a small hand. “Look what I made, Mama, look!”

“My, look at that,” Claire gushed as she inspected the offered piece. “That’s very beautiful, baby.”

“Aye, Ellis has done a braw job,” Jamie seconded with a fond smile pursing his lips as he poured steaming tea into the mugs.

“As long as ye keep him away from the actual tools,” muttered William around a bite of shortbread, triggering a snort from Brian, and a side-eye from his father that would have had more effect if he’d not been fighting a smirk.

Claire, too, could feel laughter bubbling up inside her. As precious and clever as Ellis was, their little boy really was quite an epicentre of danger when it came to working with anything other than brushes and paints.

Steps somewhat slowed by the giggling, copper-haired burr still attached to her hip, she approached William at his workstation. “The project seems to be coming along nicely?”

“Aye,” he replied, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips as he aligned the next two pieces with metal clamps.

“We’re almost done,” Jamie moved to her side, wrapping one warm arm around her waist, and cupping Ellis’s already thoroughly tousled head with the other. “That’s the last bit that needs joining taegether—once Willie’s done that, our wee barnacle,” he threw a soft look at the round face grinning toothily up at them, “can finish wi’ the decorating.”

“Grandda and I will make it the prettsiest bird house!”

“I’m sure you will,” Claire’s eyes crinkled with a loving smile. “And I know Mr Robin will love whatever you decide to do with it, baby.”

Conviction thus encouraged, Ellis nodded eagerly and reached up to her for a kiss. Happy to oblige, Claire hoisted him up on her right hip and pressed her lips to his cheek, causing him to squeal and wriggle with surprise as she blew a raspberry against the silky skin. Once his feet were back on solid ground, he skipped back to his own workspace, where Brian was already laying out all the essential materials.

“All right,” Claire said, sending a parental salute over to Brian while giving William’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll leave my men to it. Give me a shout if you want me to come.”

Hand resting low on her back, Jamie walked her to the open door, a twinkle of mischief glinting in the dark of his eyes as he leaned in and brushed his nose over her ear. “Oh trust me, I verra much do, Sassenach.” A different kind of warmth rose from the depths of her belly as she felt the heat of his body against her own, instinctively pressing a little closer into his touch. “I was going tae wait until taenight, but if ye insist—"

“Then you’d better make sure this bird house building doesn’t take much longer,” her breathy laugh murmured over his mouth, leaving him staring hungrily after her as she made her way back to the stack of applications waiting in her office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, my gratitude for the people who help me get my lines into shape. @elizabeth_beauchamp, @holdhertightandsayhername
> 
> and to you lovely readers who continue to make my days brighter with your comments and kudos, my heartfelt appreciation. <3  
> hope you enjoyed this installment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly? I'm really bloody tired. New job and it's draining the life out of me, not to mention the energy I need to write.  
> So, this bit has taken a lot longer to complete than I hoped it would (not to mention my original story project taking a back seat in order to complete this).
> 
> That being said, I really, really love this wee ficlet. I am so happy that I saw @ClanDonnachaidh's sneaky post about her birthday and deciding to write this for her. It went (as it so often does) into a different direction than I initially thought, but I couldn't be happier with it. It inspired so many things to come about for the Downhill Frasers that took me by surprise, but I am absolutely delighted for them—as I hope you will be too. <3

**Homecoming **–** A Downhill Ficlet - Part III**

Newly mounted on the western side of their back garden shed, the Fraser bird house was a sight to behold. A fact that it owed not only to its bright-yellow, polka-dotted walls or the prime view of the surrounding snow-capped hills, but to the care and consideration that went into building it.

A true family undertaking, every Fraser—by blood or name—had contributed to its completion in one way or another; and while Claire wouldn’t ever consider exchanging her doctor’s coat for overalls, her chest swelled with pride each time she looked at the little ‘ _Failte’_ sign adorning the bottom platform of its open front.

Hammer in his left hand, Jamie stepped down from the ladder and tilted his head to the side. “D’ye think that’s going tae work now?”

“Looks good to me,” seeking warmth, Claire slid her hand in the back pocket of his jeans. “But I’m the wrong person to ask, Fraser. Let’s consult the expert, hm?”

“Right ye are, _mo ghràidh_.” Blue eyes smiling, he dipped his face and planted a delicate kiss to her temple before cupping both hands in front of his mouth and giving a shout. “Oi! Come back here, ye twa!”

Two faces—flushed with cold and labour—popped up at either side of a growing wall of snow that was slowly but gradually being shaped into something resembling the Loch Ness Monster. Abandoning their current project, the boys followed Jamie’s call through the deep, crispy white blanketing the grounds.

Watching Ellis trip over in his excitement, both Claire and Jamie took an instinctive step forward, but William was already at his little brother’s side, lifting him to his feet and brushing snow off of the laughing face.

“Up ye get, ye wee wally.” The words of gentle admonishment drifted over on the tails of misty breath. “Mam and Da are waitin’ on us, we dinnae ha’ time fer ye tae fall o’er yer own feet all day.”

Reaching them still in good spirits, Willie wiped his wet hands on the pair of jeans that was edging on becoming too short for his growing limbs. “Is it all done then?”

“Aye, what d’ye think? Is it going tae work fer the robins now?” Jamie asked, watching as their eldest inspected his handiwork with a critical eye.

Willie stood, legs wide, with his arms crossed in front of his chest, oblivious to the fact that he was mirroring his father’s stance to a tee. “It’s looking good, aye. The back wall o’ the house will shield it from the worst o’ the wind and sun during the day, and it’s close enough tae the trees and creepers wi’out their flight path bein’ cluttered.”

Pride pulled at the corners of her mouth as Claire listened to him confidently relay his expertise on domestic bird nesting preferences. A naturalist in the making.

“Do we need to put something in for them to build a nest?” she asked, pressing a bit closer into the warmth radiating from her husband’s body. “We have plenty of cotton we could use, or—”

William stopped her with a shake of his head. “No, that’ll make it less attractive fer them. Putting it up in the righ’ location was as much as we can do.”

Jamie pulled her into his side, his fingers curling strong and comforting around the swell of her hip.

“But it’s sae prettsy, and we worked sae hard,” Ellis said, mouth puckered with protestation. “Why don’t the birds come _now_?”

“Because good things often take time, _mo mhac_ ,” Jamie explained in a soft tenor. His eyes, however, were fixed on Claire’s, reflecting the same sense of wonder and accomplishment that was sprouting in her belly. “But when they happen, ye’ll find that the wait was more than worth it.”

“I’m starving, I’m goin’ tae see whether tea’s ready yet,” William threw in, already setting off towards the front door, where the promise of warmth and sustenance was beckoning.

Ellis, never straying far from his idol’s side, hurried after him, firing questions in rapid succession, “How long d’ye think we’ll ha’ tae wait? Much longer than a day or sae? Mebbe twa? Will the birds be happy wi’ the house? Should I ha’ painted it red, no’ yellow?”

Walking arm in arm behind them, Claire and Jamie listened to the older boy answering all of his brother’s inquiries with a calm kind of patience he never seemed to run out of.

“The colour doesnae matter tae them. They might find the nest taemorrow, or mebbe in a week. But if they like it, we’ll mebbe see some chicks in spring.”

Jamie’s fingers tightened around her waist, an unspoken promise travelling from his fingertips to her skin; a knowledge not yet shared with anyone but the two of them.

One way or another, there _would_ be new life come spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, my gratitude to the people who donate their time to help me evolve as a story-teller. @elizabeth_beauchamp and @holdhertightandsayhername. @SassySassenach for creating that wonderful ficlet moodboard.
> 
> last, but never least, to you loyal readers, who don't seem to tire of me or of this family, who come back again and again, asking for more. You guys put sunshine into dreary days. <3


End file.
